Day 9 - afternoon

<snip>

"So what I came here for was to find out if you could be the Capt. C. the note spoke of and if so what you might be able to tell us about this man
Dolfis who calls himself a pirate?"

<end snip>

Chessman eyed Ojean with some amusement. "So, let me see if I get this straight. You're here because the warren records don't list either a home, a family or loyalty to any Lord for Dolfis?" Ojean nodded and the captain continued. "Easy enough. He lives on his ship. He hasn't really lived on land since he was younger than you. No family and no Lord. If he owed allegiance to a Lord, he wouldn't need to tithe himself, would he?"

Chessman gazed at Ojean, his eyes twinkling. He settled back to his meal, seemingly done with the conversation. Ojean was ready to howl in frustration until he realized the portmaster was playing with him. Why he would do that, Ojean wasn't sure, but there was no question that he was. He glanced over at Cill, who was sitting quietly watching but not saying anything. She seemed to be trying to disappear. He sighed and turned back to Captain Chessman.

"The warren really needs to have more information on him - some way of vouching for his character, maybe? If you are this Captain C...." He let his voice trail off invitingly.

"I am - as you had already guessed. You needn't try and trick me, my boy." He smiled to take away any sting from his comments and eyed the boy warily. "I can tell you what I told Bithena - but with the same conditions. Nothing goes down in writing. Its up to you."

Ojean frowned. Why nothing in writing? But one look at Chessman's face was enough to convince him that he wasn't going to get an answer for that. He sighed. Either way, they needed the information. He nodded.

"Your records of tithes from him should go back about 15 years, that right? He's been a pirate for a little over 16 years...started tithing as soon as he could. His father was a seacaptain too. Cesare was big on duty - raised Dolfis to do the right thing, no matter the cost." Chessman frowned a moment, lost in memories, He shook his head and refocussed his attention. "All right, Dolfis is a bit of a legend around here, but some of what they say is actually true. He really does run a clean ship - all thing considered. He tries not to actually ruin anyone...don't take every last gold piece, leave them their food and water, leave their ship able to get to port...you understand? But he is a thief - he tried to run simply independant for a while, but not being able to run into port here cost him. So, he could either give up - and let all his men fend for themselves or he could go rogue."

Ojean sat back and waited. If Chessman wanted to play games, they could play games. Lord Vaddon had taught him a thing or two, after all. Chessman sighed and took up the tale again.

"Twenty years ago, Dolfis was made first mate on a brand new ship his Lordship had comissioned. He was working for Lord Grouty then, you understand. Anyway, the Marquesa was a fine ship and Dolfis was pleased to gain such a rank. He was still fairly young for it. His father just about burst himself wide open with pride. So, the downside of this was that the captain of the Marquesa was to be Lord Grouty's son, Fellan. Fellan had never done a day's turn as a sailor and now he fancied himself a captain. That maiden voyage went pretty well...Dolfis managed to work around Fellan to a great extent and keep it hidden that the crew looked to him and not to their captain. The second voyage did not do as well. They set out from here, ignoring the storm warnings. Now, mind, it was nothing like the blow we just had, but it was bad enough and the ship was too lightly loaded to try and run with it. But Fellan ordered them to do just that. It was suicide, plain and simple. There was no way the ship could manage it, but Fellan insisted and when the helmsman refused, he began to beat him. That was when Dolfis drew on Fellan and took over the ship. He made sure Fellan wasn't harmed and when the storm was over, gave him a dinghy to row back to port - they weren't that far away - but it was still mutiny. And since it was Lord Fellan...it was twice as bad. Grouty sentenced him to exile, on pain of death." 

Chessman leaned back and grinned slightly at Ojean's shocked face. "More than you bargained for, was it, lad? Well, that's the worst of it. You want someone to vouch for Dolfis. I would, but if Grouty were to hear of it he could - and would - make things rough for me. He can't do anything about the warren though. Tell you what - you find old Darcron the trader, I'll bet he'll vouch for Dolfis."

{Tag, Barb! <G>}



Day 9 - afternoon
<snip>
"Captain Dolfis...I was wondering...do you need an extra hand on your ship?" he asked.

<end snip>

Dolfis rocked back on his heels, momentarily shocked out of speech. He peered at the young man, trying to decide just where that question had come from. 

"And why would you be asking that, lad?"

"Well, I was thinking maybe I...," Ansel trailed off. 

"Now, why in the world would you trade all this," he gestured vaguely at the warren behind them, "for the life of a pirate?"

"There's nothing to keep me here and I just....want to see the world, have adventures, that sort of thing."

Dolfis eyed his young companion curiously. "Did you and your sister have a fight or something?"

"Oh no," Ansel assured him. "I just - well, since I didn't join, maybe I should try something else."

"You can't try again?"

Dolfis sounded appalled and Ansel flushed slightly. "Well, I could, I guess, but...."

Dolfis turned to face the sea, hiding his sudden grin from the boy. No point in telling him how young he was to give up so soon, he wouldn't listen anyway. Carefully, he searched for the words that would put Ansel off joining him without stripping him of all his dignity. He sighed heavily.

"Well, lad, I'll tell you I'm in no position to take on more crew right now. If we can repair the ship, we'll be here several days, so there's time to think things through and if your sister doesn't let us, well, there won't be a pirate ship for you to join anyway. You see my point, of course." Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Ansel nod and went on. "Like I said, if you're imagining life with us would be anything like what Morghan wrote, you'll be much surprised - and not happily, I'll warrant." 

He heard Ansel start to protest and turned to face him. Dignity be damned...the boy would recover from that a lot faster. 

"Now, listen to me. Morghan left out the bloodier stories and glossed over any details that didn't fit in with what he wanted. What do you think your sister would say about your becoming a thief? All the old stories make it sound exciting - and I admit, it can be - but there are things Morghan never wrote about." 

"But they say you're an honorable man - you tithe and don't kill, it can't be that bad," Ansel protested, all the insistency of youth behind him.

Dolfis sighed. Why was it some could never just learn things the easy way? Taking a deep breath, he let himself sink into pirate mode. He spun around and grabbed Ansel by the throat, lifting him right off his feet. He wasn't a large man, but he was strong. Ansel's eyes widened and he swallowed convulsively. As yet, his breath wasn't cut off, but it would take almost nothing for Dolfis to change that. The charming, somewhat roguish sea captain was gone, replaced by a cutthroat bent on his own schemes.

"Empty your pockets and give me everything you got. One squeeze is all it takes."

The hiss of the threat was enough to send shivers up and down Ansel's spine. Trying not to panic - and hoping desperately that Dolfis wasn't really about to kill him - he slid his hands into his pockets, searching for anything of value. He pulled out what he could, but no hand was forthcoming to take it, just a slight increase in pressure of the hand around his neck. Trembling - with fear and the beginnings of rage - he dug out all his pockets held - even the lint - and dropped it onto the sand, praying it was enough to buy his life. With a growl, Dolfis tossed him roughly to the sand, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to impress.

"Is that really the way you want to live, son?"

*******

Katrina